


Hardly Flirting

by WingsOfFire13



Series: Chronicles of Adelin Lavellan [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adelin is hopelessly nieve, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Boys Kissing, Confusion, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Horses, Jealous Dorian, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Sarcasm, Skyhold, confused Adelin, minor Lace Harding/Male Inquisitor, mixed signal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsOfFire13/pseuds/WingsOfFire13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when you flirt with Scout Harding while you romance a certain Tevinter Altus. Or at least, this is my take on it. Enjoy!</p><p>Also known as: That one with all the kissing and cuddling after they almost die. Again. Maker these two really need to learn how to cast a better Barrier or something. Oh, and Scout Harding being a flirt. That's a key story point.</p><p>Because get it? "Hard-ly Flirting"? "Scout Hard-ing"? Eh? Eh? No? Okay I'll just show myself out then.</p><p>Btw that joke was totally not inspired by Varric. Nope. Not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hardly Flirting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a LOT longer than I intended it to be. I almost thought I might have to chop it up into chapters. This is my first published work of this pairing, (this may or may not also be like my fifth time romancing Dorian in the game but screw everything I love him) so if I accidentally use one of my other Inquisitor's names please bear with me! Thank you :)
> 
> Enjoy the reading!
> 
> Oh, and for those who don't know-
> 
> "Ma sa'lath"- my one love
> 
> "Ma'arlath" - my love
> 
> "amatus"- beloved in Tevene.

Dorian Pavus is in love with the Inquisitor. He found him irresistible in every sense of the word- from his pointed ears to his long legs, to that brilliant magical mind and thick Fereldan accent. Of course, Inquisitor Adelin Lavellan was adorably innocent when it came to Dorian’s feelings with him. In fact, Dorian wasn’t even sure that the man who held so much sorrow behind those sunbeam-gold eyes even intentionally did what he had done. Maybe he didn’t realize it. It was only the first time it had happened, after all.

 

_“Or maybe he’s just playing with you like every other man in your life has”_

 

Dorian shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts like he would Dispel an enemy Ice Mine. Still, he couldn’t help but let his mind drift back to earlier that day in the Western Approach...

 

Ahead of him, standing face to face were Adelin and Scout Harding. They were talking, their usual bit of banter going back and forth as Harding gave them the lay of the land.

 

That’s when it happened.

 

“Are you _worried_ about me?” He teased. That smirk that he usually only saved for Dorian, tucked away between the pages of musty books and late night conversations with just enough wine to help them both unwind, tugging at the slim scar on the left corner of his mouth.

 

“Well, _someone_ has to be. Try not to die while you’re out there, Inquisitor. That’s not a report I want to have to bring back with me to Skyhold.” She replied without missing a beat, a small smile of her own making an appearance.

 

Now Dorian was back in the tent that he was sharing with Cole for the evening. Well, if you could call it sharing. Cole didn’t sleep so much as “lurk” in a corner until everyone started waking up again. Adelin shared his tent with Iron Bull the majority of the time.

 

The last time Dorian and Bull had tried sharing a tent for the night Dorian woke up to a half-dreaming Bull snarling and trying to strangle him, thinking he was back in Seheron. Adelin had actually been forced to fire a small lightning bolt at Bull’s leg before the Qunari was awake enough to realize he was killing one of his companions. Dorian had stayed far away from the giant since then, and he had to admit he balked a bit when his Addie switched tents with him. More out of worry for his safety than for… other reasons. Everything worked out fine though- Apparently Adelin reminded Bull of an old friend back home.

 

 _“It’s nothing. Even if he did it, he didn’t mean it. Scout Harding hardly seems his type.”_ He finally decided, reassured enough to roll over and get some sleep.

 

~~~~~

 

The next time it happened, in the Emerald Graves, Dorian was slightly less certain that the Inquisitor was not purposefully flirting with Scout Harding.

 

Once more it was business as usual, Harding giving them a brief background and some landmarks on a map that they should check out, as well as possible campsites, and just as she was rolling up her own maps to leave, Adelin spit out;

 

“I do so love these little chats, don’t you? It’s like we’re getting to know each other.” He smiled warmly. Oh, what Dorian would give to pull him close and feel the gentle roughness of sandpaper-short auburn hair, right up until his fingers could tangle themselves in the longer strands at the top of his head. A very military-esque cut. Dorian had helped his friend pick the new look, after nearly having his own head taken off by a stray thunderbolt when Adelin’s long tresses got in his face while he was casting.

 

“We are, aren’t we? Such a shame these meetings are... so brief…” She trailed off, batting her eyelashes like a Blighted teenager.

 

“Well, they are called “briefings” for a reason.” They chuckled together.

 

Dorian thought he might throw up. He had to look away until the dwarf finally wandered off. He hadn’t heard anything else until Adelin turned around and started speaking to him.

 

“-orian. Dorian? Are you alright?”

 

“Twisting turning tumbling. Falling so fast I can’t stop, can’t breathe, can’t think- blinded by sunbeams and drowning in short soft silk like red wine.”

 

“ _Thank you_ , Cole.” Dorian snapped, marching off into the forest. He needed to kill something right now.

 

~~~~~

 

The next time it happened Dorian wasn’t even sure it had happened because his teeth were chattering so loudly. Iron Bull kept glancing over at him as though he thought Dorian was suddenly going to sneeze out an Energy Barrage.

 

He managed to catch bits and pieces of the conversation when he clenched his jaws tightly together;

 

“Welcome to Sarnia, Inquisitor…”

 

“...froze over…”

 

“...long, _long_ while.” Was all he managed to get between chatters.

 

“Are you alright? You look a bit cold.” Now THAT he heard loud and clear.

 

“Me? Oh, um, I’m fine. I mean, it is a little cold. My feet are _freezing…_ ”

 

“Here, allow me.” He replied easily, waving his hand through the air. A skillfully dulled fire spell, it seemed. Dorian had cast a similar spell on himself just a few moments ago. In fact, he had shown Adelin how to use most of his fire spells and charms, this one included. He picked up the spells surprisingly quickly for someone who was more comfortable diverting lightning strikes away from herds of Halla. Now he wished he hadn’t used the spell already, if only because a full-body shivering might catch Adel’s attention. He wanted those eyes locked on his, that strange reddish sparkling deep within them coming out a bit as he channeled his magic…

 

Iron Bull “accidentally” jostled Dorian as their group started to move out.

 

“You wanna talk about it?”

 

 _“Venhedis!”_ He swore loudly at his… Whatever Bull was. His toes were getting cold again.

 

~~~~~

 

Dorian couldn’t deny it any more. Adelin was most definitely flirting with Scout Harding ever chance he got. Even in Crestwood, with the undead rising out of the lake and a Mayor who had lied through his teeth to his entire town. He had found time to make sure that he told Harding how he felt-

 

“I wish we could meet somewhere nice for a change. Maybe with some wine and a packed lunch, beautiful sunset filling the sky.”

 

And she had had the _gall_ to _giggle._ He might have given Blackwall’s beard a bit of a... _trim_ with his fire that day, but the he didn’t seem to notice. Rage demons and all that.

 

~~~~~

 

After that, it was several weeks before Adelin left Skyhold again. He spent most of his time in the library, because like most mages he tended to gravitate towards books. Dorian would watch him from the corner of his eye sometimes, remembering what it had felt like after they came back from Redcliffe. Both times they had come back from there, really. Now, all these weeks later, Dorian wondered if that had been all him- that the Inquisitor truly had no interest in him. That he had simply allowed Dorian to kiss him because he thought it would… help him? make him _happy?_ He didn’t know.

 

~~~~~

 

A week later, Dorian, Cassandra, and Varric headed out into the Hissing Wastes. Another location Dorian simply _loved_ to little pieces. Especially since Scout Harding was there.

 

Addie had almost made it through an entire conversation, mostly business, light banter, a small smile here and there. Nothing serious and Dorian’s bitter little heart let a small seed of hope grow.

 

 _“Maybe it was just a phase…?”_  He wondered to himself. He hadn’t talked to her at all while they were in Skyhold. And there were very few new places to explore, so Scout Harding might even have to be sent over the Waking Sea soon...

 

But no. Because then that small kernel of hope was obliterated by a few cheesy and terribly thought out words. But what really hurt was the fact that Adelin had apparently been thinking about pick up lines on the journey here. His “time” to think about it could only have been when he was talking to Dorian. The two of them were discussing how best to bring more books on magical theory into the Inquisition’s library, given that between the two of them there were very few left unread. Not exactly romantic conversation, but then again maybe he had underestimated just how smooth his beloved Inquisitor could be.

 

Varric ambled into the tent later to find Dorian not-so-discreetly trying to wipe away the kohl running down his cheeks and biting his lip almost to the point of drawing blood to keep himself quiet.

 

“You alright there, Sparkler?” Varric asked quietly. Adelin and Cassandra had gone to bed about an hour or so ago. Dorian had assumed Varric had fallen asleep by the fire again...

 

“Wonderful. Peachy. _Overjoyed._ Elated!”

 

“Hey, if you don’t want to tell me, I won’t press. But I’m here for you if you need me.” He replied to Dorian’s sarcastic venom. The two were actually pretty good friends, compared to most of the other members of the Inner Circle. Their bets and banter always made for a pleasant trip.

 

“...Varric, what would you do if someone… made you fall in love with them, made you think that maybe they loved you too, and then blatantly flirted with someone else while you had to watch?”

 

“...Uh. Well, shit. I guess I’d… uh. Look Sparkler, I’m not really that great at romance. Maybe ask Cassandra tomorrow? She reads that romantic crap all the time.” The dwarf shied away. Ah well. Not like Dorian could blame him. The dwarf was in love with a woman who was supposed to maintain the distance of a continent between them at all times, plus the fact that she was already married to another man. But hey, he had a crossbow named after her. Maybe Dorian could get a really nice new staff...

 

Dorian gave Varric a sympathetic smile, finished wiping the black streams from his face and tried to roll over and sleep.

 

~~~~~

 

Dorian’s horse hadn’t even stopped before he was stomping his way back up to his own quarters. He refused to talk or even look at anyone all the way up until he reached the top of the stairs. Where he foolishly turned around to see golden fox’s-eyes staring up at him, liquefying his heart with the amount of concern and fear on his behalf that he saw there.

 

He and Cassandra had never spoken much. They weren’t particularly close, and they didn’t have much in common. However, Dorian had not expected her cruel, harsh disapproval of Dorian being in love. Not that she knew it was with the Inquisitor of all people, but just that she didn’t trust him at all. She probably thought that this person he was in love with was scheduled to be his next victim in a blood sacrifice. Or maybe some noble he had charmed in order to gain higher social standing again. After all, everyone always seemed to think Dorian didn’t belong, saying he was too pampered or too pompous. Well, maybe they were right. Maybe he should just leave, then.

 

He was half way done packing when Adelin himself walked in.

 

“Dorian? What are you doing?” He asked from the doorway.

 

“Were you raised outdoors, _Inquisitor?_ It’s rude not to knock before you enter. Oh, my apologies, _you were._ How could I forget that, especially with those _long ears_ of yours?”

 

Adelin was visibly taken aback by that. He had rarely been on this side of Dorian’s bladed tongue. One of the first secrets he had shared with the Tevinter mage was how self conscious he was of his ears. Even for an elf, they were unreasonably long and thin.

 

“Dorian?”

 

“Oh, don’t mind me, _your reverence._ It’s just that I’ve _finally_ realized that you don’t need me here. You forced a puzzle piece that does not fit, and as fun as this has been, I think I’ll take my leave now.” He straightened, voice and eyes hard as he pulled his few belongings onto his back. He studiously did not look into the taller man’s eyes.

 

“ _Dorian._ ” Adelin said again, harder this time. He put a strong arm across the doorway when Dorian tried to squeeze past him in the thin door frame.

 

“Move.”

 

“No.”

 

“Adelin, step aside.”

 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“I SAID GET OUT OF MY WAY YOU DAMNED _KNIFE-EAR!_ ” He roared, the fire in his eyes matched only by the shock and pain he saw in his beloved’s bright golden orbs.

 

Reluctantly, Adelin let his arm fall back to his side. Dorian felt a sickening mixture of pain, grief, and pleasure when his order was obeyed. He wasn’t sure which he hated the most. But he walked away anyway. He took note of the harsh wind and icy chill in the air- this place would have given him his death anyhow. Best to leave it whilst still healthy.

 

His regal Free Marches Ranger was only just beginning to be unsaddled when he came striding back in and snatched the reins from the stable boy, who rushed to retighten the saddle straps as Dorian set his brisk pace towards the gated archway of Skyhold. He couldn’t say he wasn’t a bit relieved to see Adelin’s Orlesian Courser already back in its stall, saddle and bridle both gone. If he decided to follow him, it would give Dorian those precious few extra minutes to get farther away.

 

“Ser Pavus! Wait!” There was commotion behind him, but he didn’t care.

 

Swinging up into the saddle and staving off the mountain chill with a simple spell, he spurred his horse out into the snow and refused to look back.

 

~~~~~

 

Adelin drifted about his castle for nearly an hour, but he couldn’t have told you where exactly he had gone or what he had done in that time. His heart had been sliced out of his chest with a silverite tongue. He didn’t even realize he was in the library until he smelled the familiar must of books and musk of Dorian. He had to take a deep breath and hold it, slowly backing away from the alcove that Dorian had made his practically as soon as he arrived. No one should see him like this. Especially now that he was the Inquisitor. He turned from the spot and braced his hands against the railing, digging his nails into the wood. Every muscle in his body was tensed in a vain effort to get a grip on his emotions.

 

“Inquisitor!” A stable boy came rushing up to him, huffing and puffing after presumably running up three or so flights of stairs.

 

“Yes?” He turned, fists tightly clenched in a parade-rest behind his back. A true Knight-Enchanter.

 

“Ser… Ser Pavus. T-Taken his horse and… And he was… He was... He… cloak. Storm blowing in... over the mountain… might be a blizzard.”

 

Adelin was standing outside the stables as if he had somehow teleported there. He didn’t even bother to saddle his horse, he just threw a riding blanket over the mare’s thick grey fur and packed some supplies into a small saddle bag that he kept in place by sitting on top of the middle strap. Normally it would have gone under the saddle, but there was no time for that huge thing to get tightened up. He was suddenly glad that he had taken Master Dennett's advice and trained this horse to obey commands using his hands and his voice rather than metal and leather.

 

The sky was already darkening. He had to find Dorian quickly, or else they might both freeze to death out here.

 

“You, tell Leliana I went to look for Dorian.” He ordered the just-then returning stable boy from earlier. The boy just nodded and ran back up the steps to the kitchen.

 

~~~~~

 

“Dorian! Dorian!” Adelin yelled over the ever growing growl of the wind. His voice was sore from yelling and his fingers were practically frozen into his horse’s mane. Every breath released a thick puff of air as they moved through the thick snow. The only good thing about trying to move a heavy horse through thick snow was that Dorian had left a very obvious path. Even a human could have seen it, so Adelin had no trouble tracking him. For the most part.

 

It was starting to come down harder the longer they were out there.

 

“Come on, Riversong.” He cooed to the horse “We have to find that _idiot._ ”

 

~~~~~

 

Meanwhile, Dorian and his golden mount were still determinedly working their way through the icy drifts.

 

To be honest, Dorian had pretty much let the horse take over their ride after the first forty five minutes, when he realized that Adelin probably wasn’t coming. Not after the things Dorian had said to him…

 

He shivered, wishing he had thought to grab his thicker cloak from the back of his door, but Adelin had been in the way.

 

“Keep moving Aiden.” Dorian scolded his horse when it tried to turn back for Skyhold. He flinched at his own horse’s name, the name he had chosen specifically because it sounded like Adelin.

 

 _“_ Kaffas. _I can’t get him out of my head.”_ The mage thought morosely. He let himself bend forward until he was resting his forehead against the wiry hair along his horse’s neck.

 

Of course, that was the moment that his very spirited companion decided that the Elfroot that brushed against his foot was _absolutely terrifying,_ and Dorian _miraculously_ found himself with snow down his shirt and snow in his mouth.

 

 _“KaffasKaffasKaffasKaffasKaffas”_ He repeated over and over in his head. Aiden was already gone by the time he got his head out of the snow and turned around, mostly due to the fact that the wind and snow were creating an ever thickening curtain around him now.

 

If he hadn’t been afraid of causing an avalanche, Dorian might have screamed. Instead, he cast another spell to help get some feeling back in his fingertips and nose, and then started looking for a place to wait out this storm.

 

~~~~~

 

Adelin had absolutely no idea how long he had been searching for Dorian now. The sky was so dark the rift was barely visible, the snow stung his eyes and his ears felt colder than they had even after Haven fell.

 

But still, he kept up his shouting.

 

“Dorian! DORIAN!!” Riversong suddenly stopped, ears perked up to their right. Fearing wolves, Adelin pulled out his staff and waited for a better visual. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of Dorian’s gold and white mount.

 

 _“The same colors as your eyes, Adelin, bright and shining like liquid ambrosia”_ He remembered Dorian croon in his ear at the horse market. Of course that was just to get him to buy the expensive animal, he knew Dorian had never meant anything by his flirtations, but still, the shiver it had sent down his spine...

 

He felt like he might throw up. The other horse easily came to the elf, frost-covered whiskers lightly brushing over his outstretched hand in search of a treat that wasn’t there.

 

“Hey boy. Where’s Dorian?” He croaked as if the horse would answer. His voice was definitely getting fainter. That wasn’t good.

 

With the reins of the other horse in his hand and a few clicks from his mouth, he set about trying to follow what tracks were left from where ever it was the horse had come from. Luckily the horse’s route was mostly through trees, so he didn’t have to shield his eyes as much as before from the frost. About twenty minutes later, the trail became too faint to distinguish from other parts of the snow, and Adelin continued shouting as loudly as he dared for the other mage.

 

He heard a loud cracking sound behind him. Both horses tensed up, Aiden and Riversong both dancing nervously. He knew the warhorses could easily outrun any predator out here even with all the snow, but he also knew they would make a beeline for Skyhold- probably taking him and his chances of saving Dorian with them- if they spooked.

 

“Dorian?” He called. A pair of yellow eyes blinked out at him from the snow.

 

“Not Dorian. _Forward!_ ” He yelled, spurring both horses into a forward charge with his simple command. He threw the reins back over Aiden’s golden neck, knowing that if the horse’s leg got tangled in the leather it could lead to disaster. It seemed like there were only a few wolves, so Adelin did the only logical thing- He took his saddle bag over his shoulder, gave a few more high-pitched clicks to keep his mare running, and then grabbed a tree branch as he rode under it, grabbing the attention of the wolves and finding a way to keep looking for Dorian all at once. Because logical and sane men purposefully make themselves Blight wolf bait in the middle of a Blighted blizzard. Right.

 

Below him, the black and grey dogs circled, eyes showing the madness that had taken over since the Breach had opened. Another demon in control of the pack, most likely. One of them leapt into the air with the intention of grabbing his foot, but he kicked it squarely in the jaw before he hoisted himself up.

 

“DORIAN! DORIAN I _NEED_ YOU!” He made one last attempt, and then he let all the wrath of the Maker himself rain down on those wolves with lightning and fire.

 

~~~~~

 

Dorian was dreaming. He could have sworn that he had gone back home, back to his warm house and a delicious meal all made out and ready for a feast, a warm bath leaking steam out into the hallway behind him. He could feel it on the back of his neck...

 

He suddenly snapped back into reality. The warmth on the back of his neck  had come from his own hand. He had fallen asleep most of the way through casting a warming charm, and his hand had slid from his frozen ear to his neck.

 

With a sigh, he got back to his feet, intending to keep trudging towards… well, anywhere, really. But his footprints were gone. Now he had no way of knowing if he was moving towards Skyhold or away from it. Dorian was all alone. He had no horse, no friends, no family, and he had said every awful thing he could think of at the time to the one and only man who he might have stood a chance at happiness with. Maybe they might not have been together publicly, maybe Dorian slipped into the background as one of the Inquisitor’s closest friends, but he could have been happy, at least. Standing by that beautiful, powerful elf’s side forever… it was better than what he would have gotten back in Tevinter, at any rate. The feelings would have been real, not just pleasure for pleasure’s sake. Not with his _amatus..._

 

He let out a single, solitary sob, black rivulets of kohl running down his cheeks and quickly freezing there. He angrily wiped away the frosty water, his other hand shielding his eyes from the snow as he looked for somewhere that offered at least a little bit of shelter from the cold. There was a scattered forest off to his right, and figuring that the snow would get caught on the trees there rather than in his eyelashes, he headed in that direction.

 

~~~~~

 

Adelin panted, legs shaking as he wrapped his arms around the thick tree trunk. He had vastly underestimated the number of wolves in this area, and had managed to kill maybe… two dozen by now? And yet still, he saw four more circling below him like sharks, plus who knows how many more still hiding out in the woods. He couldn’t die out here. He had to find Dorian, he had to save him. What good was being Andraste’s Chosen if Andraste simply ripped away one of the few people he had ever truly cared for?

 

With another shaking breath, his lungs stinging from the cold, Adelin pulled his left hand closer to him. Looking at the mark, he almost wondered if he had the energy to summon a rift and try and take them all out at once. Had he listened to Cullen when he suggested that their group acquire “second tier focus” or whatever, he might not be facing the problem of only being able to summon a single rift vortex…

 

Just then, all four wolves circling below violently rammed into the tree, causing the elf to lose his footing on his snowy tree branch.

 

With a grimace, the elf eased the saddle bag over his shoulder open and withdrew a Lyrium potion- swallowing down the bitter liquid in one large gulp.

 

It was like he had been hit with his own lightning.

 

He cast a barrier over himself, dropping to the ground in a crouch and quickly casting a Chain Lightning between the four wolves. Two were paralyzed and one dropped to the ground, but the fourth one stalked closer, teeth bared and belly low to the snow. Yellow eyes locked on gold as they slowly began their battle dance.

 

The beast lunged- one large clawed paw slicing through the armor at Adelin’s shoulder easily as the elf drove the sharp blade at the end of his staff through the creature’s flank. With a snarl, the wolf turned and snapped at him, jaws not quite sinking all the way through the metal there but going deep enough that the Inquisitor screamed out in pain, blood running down his arm from both wounds and staining the snow pinkish crimson.

 

With his free hand, he called a massive thunderbolt down from the sky and directly into the wolf’s back- sending them both flying apart when the wolf’s body was wrent practically in two by the force of the blast. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but even with that wolf down there were still three more to contend with. And two more skulking out of the trees.

 

 _“Fenedhis!”_ He cursed to himself. Quickly casting another Barrier and then another Chain Lightning once the wolves were close enough, he used the brief moment when most of the wolves were paralyzed to swallow back a second lyrium potion- only three left now- and then quickly cast a static cage over them whilst he attempted to run.

 

He did not make it far. He must have missed one, because it was only a few moments later that sharp teeth were embedded in the back of his boot.

 

~~~~~

 

Dorian heard screaming, flashes of purple and red igniting in the thick grey cloud. Panic overtook him, he knew it could only be Adelin. Not many mages bothered to master more than one elemental magic before moving on into their specialized class. Well, aside from maybe learning a bit of spirit magic, but besides that-

 

Another scream ripped through the grey, tree-dotted world around him, this one sounding closer and far more pained than the previous one had.

 

Dorian was about to cast a Haste spell on himself when he finally rounded a large bank of snow and saw his Inquisitor, beating back a wolf with a Spirit Blade while a few more dragged their obviously burnt bodies out of the woods not far beyond. Finally getting the creature to release his bloody calf, Adelin used his hands to shove himself backwards through the snow, as far away from the creature as he could get while still facing it. It leapt at him again, this time with heavy paws easily knocking the air out of the elf’s chest.

 

Immediately kicking into combat mode, the young Altus took his stance and cast the strongest Horror he could manage on the wolves, sending them scattering back into the forest while he picked off the ones that came back too soon with an angry lick of Flash Fire flames sent at each of them.

 

He had to physically grab his own wrist to keep himself from casting a Haste, just to get to Adelin faster, but he knew that it would be a waste of precious mana. He couldn’t get to Adelin’s side fast enough- he wouldn’t have even known he was there if not for his red wine colored hair and the… the blood staining the snow at his shoulder and leg. He was gasping for breath, the wind obviously knocked out of him by the beast’s weight, and he was pale as snow- from cold or from bloodloss, Dorian had no idea.

 

“...Dorian…” Adelin croaked, golden eyes still shining, melting his heart from the inside out.

 

“Hold on, _Amatus._ Can you walk? Can you stand?” He asked, trying to see if he had any healing potions in the small bag he had brought with him.

 

“Mmmf..” The elf replied, using a mixture of Dorian and his staff until he was able to put weight on his uninjured leg and stand.

 

Most of the wolves had fled but there were still two left. Dorian easily dispatched them, of course, even with the weight of the taller mage leaning across his shoulders.

 

“Which way is Skyhold?” Dorian asked quickly, scanning the trees for more enemies even as he waited for a response. Adelin grunted and pointed his staff in the direction he had come from, hoping that somehow there would still be a scouting party out there and they would run into them along the way. He wasn’t sure how long he could stay awake at this rate.

 

“Dorian…”

 

“ _Shh, Addie._ Save your strength.” He quieted the elf gently as he moved his own staff back onto his back. He took the… saddle bag? off of Adelin’s wounded shoulder and carried it himself, not wanting to put any strain on the other man in his condition. The puffs of air floating from his mouth were growing closer and closer in color to the elf’s complexion, which did absolutely nothing to ease Dorian’s worry.

 

After trudging through the snow for twenty minutes, Dorian didn’t know what else to do. It seemed like Adelin was only half-way conscious, his head constantly bobbing up and down as he fought to stay awake. There was also the paranoia that those wolves were tracking Adelin’s bloody trail in the snow, and that did very little to help Dorian or Adelin right then.

 

Finally, Adelin couldn’t keep going, legs giving way and dragging both of them gracelessly down into the snow. He couldn’t help the slight feeling of relief that washed over him when he was finally able to get off his injured leg, the snow curling around him like an icy blanket. If he could just get a few minutes of rest, then he could keep walking. Just a few minutes…

 

 _“Adelin Lavellan,_ I swear on _Andraste herself_ if you fall asleep right now I will burn you _alive!”_ Dorian growled, using the arm still over his shoulders to fling the Inquisitor onto his back, both men’s eyes blown wide in fear for entirely different reasons. The way Dorian had turned him over now left both men facing each other, Dorian’s hands just above either of Adelin’s shoulders and their hips lying in the snow next to each other with Dorian’s legs tucked up under him. The shorter mage leaned over the taller, face coming closer to be heard over the only just now slowing winds.

 

“We have to keep moving. We’re almost back to Skyhold(I think). Can you make it just a few more steps? For me?” Dorian practically begged, eyes softening along with his voice.

 

“Adelin…” I can’t lose you too, the words that were there but left unspoken.

 

From this close, Adelin had one of the most beautiful views in the world. Dorian, kohl stained cheeks and frost in his moustache and eyelashes, silverite grey eyes singing to him like the rivers he used to love so much back when he was with his clan. His clan… Keeper would have loved Dorian. They all had such a similar sense of humor. Now he wasn’t so sure he’d get to have the honor of introducing the two. He thought guiltily of the half-written letter back to his twin sister, Adelaide, still waiting after all these weeks to hear from her older brother. He wondered what would happen if he died here...

 

Adelin reached up, gently casting a heating charm over his hand and over Dorian with all the mana he could muster, melting away the black streaks on Dorian’s frightened, but still magnificent face.

 

“I am sorry, ma sa’lath.” The elf whispered as loudly as his hoarse throat would allow. His eyelids fluttered closed, eyes rolling back into his head, even as Dorian grabbed the cold hand falling from his face and practically screamed his name. The last thing the Inquisitor saw was grey.

 

~~~~~

 

Dorian cried. Big, wet, ugly sobs wracking his body as he let his arms go lax and he buried his face in the leather of Adelin’s bloodied armor.

 

He couldn’t do anything else. Every trick he had was gone. This must be his punishment for falling in love, or maybe for being jealous of something he already knew could never be his.

 

He sobbed until he was lightheaded, giving up. He surrendered to the cold, because he knew that even if he could have made it back to Skyhold, going back alone would have been far worse than any death.

 

~~~~~

 

Dorian woke up in a soft, comfortable bed- his arms stiff and one tingling from the weight resting on top of it. He was sweating slightly, and he had somehow lost all of his armor- leaving him in just his under armor. It was a plain cream-colored sleeveless shirt and a pair of matching pants. Quite similar to what the Inquisitor wore as his day-to-day clothes, actually. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw his Simulacrum fading away…

 

“Dorian?” Leliana’s voice. With a groan, the Tevinter rolled over onto his back, eyes still just a slit and that heavy thing still on his arm.

 

“Ah, Spymaster. What a lovely way to start the day. Tell me, where am I? My eyes don’t seem to wish to open at the moment.”

 

“You are in the Inquisitor’s rooms.”

 

Now that got him awake.

 

Well, sort of.

 

 _“Wha..?”_ He was at a loss for words. Too many questions tumbling through his head at once, most likely. He scrubbed a hand over his stubbly face.

 

“Your Simulacrum activated when you apparently fell unconscious. It used magic to shield both of you and brought you back to Skyhold. When we tried to separate you from the Inquisitor, the Simulacrum lashed out at us. We were unable to move him more than an arm’s length away from you or you from him. In fact, it carried you both here. Once it had laid you on the bed, it seemed at a loss for what to do to help, and so it allowed the healers to treat you. You have both been asleep for almost two days now. The rest of Skyhold has been informed that the Inquisitor is fine, but that he is simply caring for his closest friend and will likely not be seen in court for a while.” Leliana dutifully reported in.

 

So that’s why the bed was so warm. The Simulacrum must have been casting charms to help them both recover some body heat. He couldn’t help the mental grin it caused when even his own battle spirit hadn’t allowed anyone to take his _Amatus_ from him…

 

There was a sleepy mumble next to him and the weight on his arm shifted closer to him.

 

“Oh. _Oh._ You meant he _literally_ didn’t move an arm’s length from me.” Dorian chuckled, only half-speaking to Leliana.

 

He had a feeling she had a small smile on her lips.

 

“Would you rather I remained here with the two of you until he wakes, or would you rather dismiss me?” The redhead asked.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind leaving us, I think I can relay your report to him when he comes around. Thank you.” He sat up slightly and smiled at her, eyes still hazy grey storm clouds. She nodded and left. Once he heard the door close, Dorian finally looked over at the weight on his tingling arm.

 

Adelin looked much better, skin back to its usual shade of fairness. He looked so young in his sleep. Dorian wondered if he had looked like this all the time before the Inquisition, relaxed and happy. At peace. Learning about magic out in the wilderness with his clan as he climbed through the trees.

 

His face had a new cut that would likely turn into a scar, slightly higher then eye-level on his temple. Dorian couldn’t resist it- this man had come looking for him in a Maker forsaken _blizzard_ in the _Frostback Mountains_. He leaned over, and gently let his lips ghost over the little gash in thanks. For everything this man had endured due to Dorian’s stupidity.

 

The Inquisitor felt slightly too cool to the touch. Not cool enough to warrant a spell, but cool enough that Dorian slid his free hand around the other man’s waist, dragging him closer and then pulling the blankets back up to their necks. Much to Dorian’s delight, the Inquisitor seemed to instinctively seek out the warmth of the other man, pressing as close as he could to the Tevinter.

 

Dorian could have laid like that forever, laying with Adelin and just… being there. He felt happy, whole. He wasn’t drowning or falling, he was just… floating. It was a foreign sort of bliss for him. All he wanted to do was to wrap himself around this man, like the soft fur pelt laid over the two of them as an extra blanket. Dorian nuzzled his nose into the back of Adelin’s neck, breathing him in as he lightly dozed.

 

Maker knows how much later, Adelin sighed and stretched a bit. He must not have recognized his surroundings, because he immediately shot bolt upright in his bed and reached for the staff that he always kept next to his bed. His shirt had been removed, likely so that the healers could tend to his shoulder, but his still had those dreadfully colored beige pants on.

 

Dorian just pretended to sleep, one arm now over Adelin’s lap. After a moment, the elf seemed to calm down because he took his time to study Dorian’s “sleeping” face, then slowly slid back under the blankets.

 

Dorian froze. He thought for sure the other man would move away, out of his grasp. But, much to Dorian’s surprise, he not only didn’t move away, but he laid down on his back and pulled Dorian closer, gently sliding the mage’s head up onto his shoulder. Once there, Dorian made a convincing show of letting his face twitch once in his “sleep”, giving a slight shiver at the displaced blankets, and then wrapping his grip back around Adelin’s slim waist while he nuzzled into the elf’s shoulder.

 

Adelin gave a slight hiss, and Dorian’s eyes opened with a genuine bleariness present within them.

 

The elven mage smiled down at Dorian, gold eyes matching silver blink for groggy blink.

 

“You know, last thing I remember, I was dying in a snowdrift. How did we get here, exactly? Did my beloved steed come running back to my aid and save us?”

 

Dorian lightly punched him in the shoulder, then gave him Leliana’s report.

 

“Huh. Not in court for “a while”. I’m surprised she didn’t specify.” Adelin thought out loud, the hand attached to his uninjured arm exploring his own stubble with a slight rasping sound. Dorian’s head was now resting on Adelin’s chest rather than his shoulder, not wanting to hurt the young Inquisitor.

 

“Adelin, why did you come after me?” Dorian blurted out, his usual tactfulness and grace lost to his sleepiness.

 

“If you left I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to about books anymore.” The elf replied smoothly. Too smoothly.

 

“There’s Solas and Vivienne. I’m sure Josephine could find someone else to be your little _pet_ if that’s all I’m good for.” Dorian grouched.

 

“Dorian, do you really not know?”

 

“Know what? That the Inquisitor is playing me for a fool? That the Inquisitor kissed me and then behaved as though it never happened? That even my Simulacrum seems to be in love with you and you don’t return a _single ounce_ of the feeling?”  
  
“Wait, that was real? I thought I had dreamed it.”

 

“Dreamed what?”

 

“Our kiss. It was just… The way that day had been, I knew for certain we had gone to the tavern but… after that, I wasn’t sure if any of that was real or if my mind had made it up. My dreams have been… strangely clear, since I acquired the Mark. I didn’t want to ask and seem rude though, so I just kept quiet. Aside from how much pain you were in at Redcliffe… I think that the day we came back here from there was probably the best day of my life. Especially when we played Wicked Grace and I got all of your coin and your clothes.”

 

“Liked that, did you? We should play again sometime. Although, maybe we could skip the coin and get straight to the strip tease.” Dorian chuckled.

 

“But wait-” he continued “Why have you been flirting with Scout Harding, if that’s the case?”

 

“Dorian, being kind and practicing a few cheesy pickup lines is _hardly_ flirting. Especially from me. I’ve been flirting with you practically since the moment we met. My flirting is mostly banter, and doing my best to spoil the other person with gifts. Honestly I didn’t think you had any interest in me.” The elf replied.

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

“Dorian you flirt and banter with everything that moves. I figured I was no exception.” The elf deadpanned before continuing-

 

“So is that why you ran off? You were jealous of how I was talking to Lace?”

 

“When did you find out her first name was “Lace”?”

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Adelin chuckled under his breath. He wanted to roll on his side so he could face Dorian directly, but that wasn’t going to happen with his shoulder like this.

 

Dorian huffed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up over his head- he hadn’t felt so warm and cozy in the drafty castle since… well, he hadn’t felt like this _anywhere_ while he was in the south, really. For multiple reasons.

 

Adelin smiled, pulling the blankets up to his neck and sighing dramatically.

 

“Oh, how you wound me, you _sinister_ Magister. Now I am not only deprived of the _beautiful_ view of your face, but now I have no one to hold.”

 

There was more grumbling in what he assumed was Tevene from under the covers, and Dorian did not emerge.

 

 _“Dorian~”_ Adelin purred, rolling onto his side with only a slight grimace. Damn his shoulder, he was not letting a perfectly good opportunity to snuggle go to waste! And if he gasped a little at the pain, and that noise made Dorian finally turn around to face him so the shorter mage could push Adelin so that he was no longer resting on his wound- well, it’s not like he made that noise on purpose.

 

With Dorian’s head back in its rightful place on Adelin’s bare and bandaged chest, the elf softly ran his fingers through Dorian’s inky tresses.

 

“Dorian, do you know why I bought Riversong? Besides the fact that she’s a good horse?”

 

“No. But if I said that Aiden was sort of named after you, would that be odd?”

 

“Not at all, considering that I named her Riversong because she reminds me of your eyes, and that I bought the horse for you solely because of the way you whispered in my ear at the market.”

 

“Do my eyes truly sing to you, Amatus?”

 

“Not in the literal sense, no, but… They remind me of a river I once knew. It was dark grey, cold on the surface, filled with sharp silvery rocks… but the way that the water wove through the rocks, how the cool water felt against my lips after a long day… It reminded me of you. The way that it sang at night always helped me get to sleep. It was soothing.”

 

“Now now, when did you become more charming than me, _Amatus?”_ Dorian teased while the weight of those words sunk in. The longer he was here, the longer his heart was warmed. Maybe now he could take off the chains, let his walls down… He wanted to. It would be hard but he wanted to know what it felt like, not having this heavy ache in his heart. Just as he had wondered what it felt like to not have that poison festering inside him back in the Imperium. If Adelin wanted this too, this broken, cowardly self-made pariah… then by the Maker, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by.

 

The two drifted into a comfortable silence. Dorian could still feel a slight chill in the bare flesh beneath his cheek, but he was working on that, curling tighter around his love. Adelin sighed happily, fingers terribly mussing up any remnants of the styling it usually held- although, after being in a blizzard and sleeping for two days, there admittedly wasn’t much worse he could do to it. Drifting just above sleep, he tried to think back to when they were still lost in the cold. He couldn’t remember much from the end there, but he recalled something Dorian kept calling him...

 

“Dorian? What does “Amatus” mean?” He asked, surprised by the sudden tenseness in Dorian’s body at the question.

 

“I… I can’t tell you that yet, Amatus. It’s… I’m sorry, I’m just not sure I’m ready to say it out loud. Not in a language we both understand, anyway.” The dark-skinned mage sighed, slinging an arm and a leg over his Inquisitor- glad that the injury to the other man’s leg was mostly healed. And farther down than his bent-kneed legs could reach.

 

“...What does “Ma sa’lath” mean?” Dorian asked after a few moment of silence had passed between them. He felt Adelin’s fingers stutter in his hair.

 

Curious, Dorian looked up into the other mage’s face, his chin resting over Adelin’s heart.

 

Adelin drew in a shaky breath, his chest felt too full and not full enough all at once. He let his breath out and then took another before he spoke.

 

“It… It means… Maker, There were much better ways for me to tell you that. Why couldn’t we have been somewhere more romantic? Perhaps anywhere _besides_ my makeshift hospital bed?” He chuckled, stalling. He couldn’t do this. He knew he couldn’t. But then he happened to glance down, gold locked on melting silverite, and in one flash of a moment those eyes made him feel whole, like he could take on the world and win.

 

“More romantic than watching you nearly die? Killing random packs of possessed wolves in the snowy countryside? _Perish_ the _thought._ ” Dorian smirked, giving Adelin more time to think about what he was going to say.

 

“...Ma sa’lath means “my beloved” or “my one love”. I was aiming more for the latter when I said it, I think. My brain was a _bit_ fuzzy at the time. You know, freezing and bleeding out and all that.”

 

Dorian could hardly believe his ears- and his expression showed it. Wide silver eyes, slowly rising up off of Adelin’s chest as Dorian put his weight on his hands- putting them in the same position that they were in when Adelin had said those same words, had almost… They kept joking about it, but… Dorian had felt so hopeless. Helpless. Like a living Despair Demon had crawled inside his chest and frozen the blood in his veins, then shattered his heart to bits.

 

Dorian was tired of thinking. He gently leaned down- capturing the other man’s lips in a chaste kiss. It only lasted for a moment, and then all too soon Dorian was pulling away, giving Adelin a chance to say no, to push him away until they could forget all about this. He gave him an opening to get out while he still could, for both of their sakes.

 

Adelin couldn’t close the door on that opportunity to escape fast enough. In one surprisingly swift movement, the elf had rolled Dorian over to his uninjured side so that their positions were flipped. Cold chest heaving and leaning heavily on his good arm as he towered over the human, he couldn’t help the matching smirk he exchanged with Dorian as he lowered his lithe form to lay down on top of him, pale arms quickly wrapping around him in a hug. Dorian tasted like elfroot and something spicy that the elf couldn’t quite place, but he couldn’t get enough of at the same time.

 

“Ama _tus._ ” Dorian groaned, stressing the last part of the word in a way that made Adelin’s toes curl.

 

 _“Ma’arlath.”_ The elf growled back, looking every bit like some kind of clever fox with those eyes. The hunger that they reflected back at one another.

 

Dorian’s hands found their way to Adelin’s long, angular face, dancing across cheekbones and long, slim, adorable ears and down his neck, blunt fingernails lightly scratching at the shaved-shortness of wine colored hair. Adelin gave a low moan at the feel of Dorian’s gentle- but demanding- touches, and Dorian took his opportunity to add a bit of tongue into their dance.

 

Maker knows how much later, both of Adelin’s shoulder protested their position. The taller of the two, with a last, long press of lips to lips, laid down fully on top of Dorian and tucked his head under the other’s chin.

 

Both of them were panting lightly, flushed, warm and satisfied… for the moment. Well, mostly satisfied. Honestly it was probably as satisfied as they were going to get for the time being, given that Adelin was already starting to slip back into sleep. Maybe after he woke up…

 

Dorian shook his head slightly to banish the thoughts.

 

One of them mumbled a quiet “i love you” under their breath, but neither one of them could have said if they said it or if the other was the one who had spoken. It really didn’t matter. All that mattered was the flower of warmth that bloomed from the spot Dorian had laid a kiss on Adelin’s forehead, warming both of them from ear tips to toes. Adelin slept, and Dorian lightly dozed- enjoying the earthy scent of the elf’s hair and the pleasant weight of him while he had the chance. Somehow, he got the feeling this would be their last moment alone like this for some time


End file.
